


Best Thing That's Ever Been Mine

by lovethatwewerein



Series: 'Cause Baby It's You [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28881705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovethatwewerein/pseuds/lovethatwewerein
Summary: It happens on accident, a trip and a stumble at a party that leads to her and Amelia sharing a kiss. She’s slightly tipsy, not drunk enough to be unaware of what she’s doing but just enough that her inhibitions are lowered, and it’s good - really good. They don’t grow into more, just the occasional kiss when they’re bored or lonely while they maintain a healthy friendship.
Series: 'Cause Baby It's You [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053707
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Best Thing That's Ever Been Mine

**Author's Note:**

> You ever just wanna cry over Sebastian Smythe 'cause me too and that's what this fic was... me crying over Sebastian Smythe
> 
> Title taken from 'Mine' by Taylor Swift

It happens on accident, a trip and a stumble at a party that leads to her and Amelia sharing a kiss. She’s slightly tipsy, not drunk enough to be unaware of what she’s doing but just enough that her inhibitions are lowered, and it’s good - really good. They don’t grow into more, just the occasional kiss when they’re bored or lonely while they maintain a healthy friendship. 

There are others, her testing the waters to see where she stands, and she figures herself out. Her and Amelia have their thing, which she graciously drops when her best friend likes a boy - and she has a thing with James, with Emily and a longer thing with Kevin. Her dad never meets any of them, every single person confined to parties and the occasional stint underneath a staircase. 

It’s not that she’s scared to tell him - he’s always been vocal about letting her be whoever she is in her own time - but there’s a part of her that doesn’t know if it’ll stick. If it’s her first attempt at rebelling the norm and it’ll fade with time. So she doesn’t bring it up, times everything right so he never catches her with someone else in her bedroom, or the living room, or wherever she really feels like that day. 

Like anyone that gets too confident, too good at being unseen, she gets sloppy and it blows up in her face, as it inevitably would do. 

“Is this okay?” she mumbles to Emily, fingers undoing the buttons on her shirt. Living close to Dalton was bound to have a few benefits and, luckily, this ended up being one of them. The other girl nods, swallowing softly when her lips attach to hot skin. “Tell me if it’s not.” 

“It’s great,” the other girl responds, a breathy lilt to her voice that’s familiar. That shows up every time this happens. “You always say that.” 

She lifts her head, attention grabbed by Emily’s blonde hair against the couch cushions. Her soft blue eyes dazed. “Do I also always tell you how pretty you are?” 

“You’re such a sweet-talker,” her friend teases, pulling her back down into another kiss. They’re good at this now, experience layered with a sheen of lust, and it distracts her for just a second, the wrong second. 

“Charli, are you home?” 

Her eyes widen, both of them scrambling to make themselves presentable to the heavy sound of her father’s footsteps. He shouldn’t have been home for at least another hour, a case keeping him home late most nights this week, but sometimes life had to throw a spanner in the works and today was that day. 

“What’s going on?” he asks, an eyebrow raising as he stares at them both. He knows, it’s obvious by their blazers in his hand, but he’s being polite. Her shirt is still eschew and Emily’s hair is a mess - they did their best in the twenty seconds they had. 

“Nothing,” she almost skips over the ‘h’, the letters tripping on her tongue. She can’t really cover this up, defend herself against the obvious, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t try. “We were studying.” 

He barely covers up a snort, jaw ticking in that way it does when he’s trying not to laugh. She noticed it as a child, each time her grandfather told her off for something hilarious. “It sure looked that way.” 

She averts her gaze to the floor, a cream carpet that spans the entire living room suddenly a lot more interesting than she’s ever noticed before. 

“Charli,” he says, nickname escaping him with an affectionate sigh. “Why don’t you show your friend out?” 

She’s quick to stand, taking the blazer he hands to her without meeting his eyes. Emily follows her, soft steps that seem to rustle against her ears despite rarely noticing them before. They move in silence, Emily tugging her blazer back on before throwing her backpack over her shoulder - single strap. 

“I’m sorry about this,” she grumbles, folding her arms across her chest as they stand on the doorstep. “He wasn’t meant to be home until late.” 

Emily shrugs, understanding and maybe sympathy seeping into her tone. “It’s fine - you were always going to have to talk to him. When’s better than now?” 

She waves goodbye, waiting on the doorstep long enough that her dad calls her back inside. It makes her wonder if this is how people on death row feel but then decides that that’s a bit too morbid for her tastes - it’s more like balancing on a tightrope.

“So do you have something you want to talk about?” 

She lifts her gaze to her dad, green meeting green. “If I say no, will you let me leave?” 

“No.” 

She slumps down onto the couch, drowning herself in the cushions and he joins her. They don’t often sit on the same couch, both of them too tall to really share comfortably, but this moment probably calls for it as much as she would like to avoid it. 

“Come on, Charlotte,” he sighs after minutes of silence, a finger slipping under her chin to push it up so they’re facing each other. “I’m not just going to let this go.” 

“I know.” 

“Talk to me,” he pleads, resting his hand on her thigh for comfort once he’s sure she’s not going to turn away. “Tell me, in your own words, what just happened.” 

“It’s fairly obvious what you walked in on.” 

“Be serious.” 

She breathes in deeply, the syllables rolling over her tongue like a tidal wave of honesty that makes her uncomfortable. “I don’t know what to say. Emily and I are in a few classes together and we’ve made out a couple times but that’s it. We’re not dating.” 

“I didn’t say you had to be,” he tells her, giving up all pretenses of being concerned about who she is. That’s never been them - pushing a confession when the other isn’t ready - and there’s no point acting like it is. She lets herself be tucked under his arm, head resting on his shoulder. “But I would prefer to not come home to my daughter making out with someone - anyone - on my couch.” 

She chuckles, wrapping herself in her dad’s scent the way she did when she was seven and fell out of trees. When she was thirteen and took her first hit in lacrosse. The way she did last year when she was ill for a week and he ended up taking three days off work to watch films and make sure she ate. 

“I love you and I’m always going to want to protect you. That’s what fathers are for.” 

Her nose tucks into the material of his suit jacket. They don’t say it often, content to prove it in the little moments they share. It’s in her doing the dishes before he’s home and him taking half a day off to watch her big games. It’s dancing around to Christmas carols like they have nowhere else to be. It’s being there when they don’t have a whole reason to be. 

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm at love-that-we-were-in on tumblr.


End file.
